Take Two: Zutara Week 2011
by IFeltHope44
Summary: Mask. History. Social Networking. Secret. Awkward. Legendary. Caught. It's that time of year again where crazy fans put their best artistic foot forward and celebrate the wonders of Zutara. Happy Zutara Week, loves.
1. Mistrust Blossoms

**Zutara Week. Day One. Mask. **

**I own nothing! Zuko, Katara, Suki, Sokka, Toph, Aang, and anything else recognizable belong Mike/Bryan/Nickelodeon/Viacom! Title is a part of a quote from Sophocles.  
><strong>  
><strong>Zutara Week 2011 is, of course, run by the lovely trishna87, senbo-sama, AnimantX, and Irrel on deviantART. Best wishes to GreenifyME, who unfortunately couldn't participate in ZW this year.<strong>

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><p><span>Mistrust Blossoms<span>

"Zuko told me what you did. Or…what you didn't do, I guess," Aang says, pride filling his sunset-washed eyes. Katara looks at him and tries to scrub away the shining streaks of tears that fall over her copper skin. The firebender hardly hears what she responds with but startles as she shuffles toward him and throws her arms around his neck.

Both boys watch her retreating form as she walks back toward their little cliff-side camp, though different sentiments of concern and relief spill over the Prince and the Avatar respectively. Distracted, Zuko imagines that Aang is smug when he preaches his nonviolence mantra. Something inside him grows exponentially annoyed with that same pacifistic attitude. He throws the wild card at the younger boy, and he feels even worse when Aang struggles to answer him.

"Look, I'm sorry," Zuko grumbles. "It's been a long day, and I…" Zuko pauses. He isn't going to say that he thinks Katara is holding something back, for he's not entirely convinced of his musings yet, and chances are that she'd brush them away if they were to confront her about it. "It's been a long day," he repeats, a sharp hint in his voice that wards off interrogation.

As they approach camp, Aang trailing a few steps behind Zuko, Suki is cutting vegetables while Katara impales the cut chunks onto sticks and loads them onto the stone rack Toph had bent for her. The waterbender laughs at Sokka's stupid jokes, but she stops short once the boys are close.

Katara spoons rice into bowls and passes them, along with the roasted vegetables, around the fire. Zuko takes his with a murmured "thank you," and she smiles. It's not quite right though. It's a mask of false emotion, Zuko can tell. The ice in her eyes hasn't thawed, despite the warmth in her smile. He has a sinking feeling he knows why she's acting like this, and it bothers him. More thank bothers, he thinks; worries. Tortures.

Dinner ends and everyone scatters off to do this or that. Aang and Toph go to the cliff for some earthbending practice; Suki follows Sokka into his tent; Katara surreptitiously glances at Zuko before wandering off. He's already decided that he's going to follow her, but he thinks it would be best to give her a little time to herself.

He's never been one for waiting, however, and only a handful of minutes pass before he goes after her. There's no question as to where she is, and Zuko almost smiles when he sees her sitting on the pier, dangling her feet into the gently cresting waves below.

The wood of the dock creaks under his weight. "Katara," he says, his voice accompanied by the constant roll of the ocean. She nods once in acknowledgment. "You still don't trust me, do you?" he asks slowly.

"Yes, I do!" she immediately disagrees, whipping around to look at him. He squints at her, and she chews at her lip for a second before sighing, "No. Not completely." She looks away again. Zuko knows that she's not done and stays silent behind her. "Believe me, I am truly grateful for what you did for me today. And I want to trust you, I really do. But…you know…the last time I decided to trust you…" Katara trails off there, since both of them know what happened.

"What can I do?" Zuko pleads. "I'll do anything."

She contemplates for long moments, twirling ribbons of saltwater around her fingertips. Finally, she rises to her feet. "Don't move," she commands. A rush of fear swarms through his chest then: he knows now what she can do to a man with the simple flex of her hands, knows that she could easily kill him with minimal effort.

He obeys nonetheless and forces himself to keep his eyes open. Katara takes deliberate steps toward him, stopping inches away. She reaches up and splays gentle fingers across the marred half of his face. She trades a wide circle around his bad eye, over aristocratic cheekbones and where his eyebrow should be.

The healer girl brushes her hand over his forehead, pushing his hair out of his face to reveal the scar in its entirety. He gauges her expression carefully as she follows the comet-shaped mark up into his hairline and then around his ear.

"Hold up your hands," Katara orders. She nods as he brings up his hands in front of his chest. Carefully, she aligns her palms with his, matching their fingers together. She takes a deep, shuddering breath and stretches up on her toes.

In all actuality, he didn't know what he had expected her to do, but kissing him was not on his list of possibilities. Even so, he complements her, moving in effortless tandem as he reciprocates.

Zuko shifts his hands slightly, naturally weaving his fingers through the spaces between hers. He hears her breath catch between their lips, and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. She folds her own fingers around his, squeezes his hand, and waits. It's difficult to focus on everything else that _isn't _her mouth on his, but he copies her without hesitation, pressing lightly against her knuckles.

She relinquishes her position at his mouth but doesn't let go of his hands. "Okay," she breathes. "Now I trust you." Katara smiles up at him. The mask has fallen away; this time, it's genuine, reassuring.

"Really?" Zuko questions in disbelief. He finds himself staring at her lips.

She blushes under his gaze. "Well…it couldn't hurt to make sure," she justifies and leans up to kiss him again.

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><p><strong>Happy Zutara Week, everyone! :D<strong>

**Post Southern Raiders fluff. Fluff fluff fluff.**

**I seem to be having issues. I could have used this story for Caught, but I already had an idea for Caught. And then I thought of a new idea that could have been used for Caught, Mask, OR Secret, but I think I might use it for Caught and think of something else entirely for Secret. Or I could go with my original idea for Caught and use the new one for Secret to kill two birds with one stone (or…three birds with two stones…?) but I'm not entirely sure I like my original idea for Caught. …Lol. xD**

**Review, please?**  
><strong>Tchao, Zutarians.<strong>  
><strong>Erika<strong>  
><strong>xoxo<strong>


	2. Lineage

**Zutara Week. Day Two. History.**

**I own nothing! Zuko, Katara, Iroh, Ozai, Azulon, Sozin, Roku, and anything else recognizable belong to Mike/Bryan/Nickelodeon/Viacom!**

**Zutara Week 2011 is, of course, run by the lovely trishna87, senbo-sama, AnimantX, and Irrel on deviantART. Best wishes to GreenifyME, who unfortunately couldn't participate in Zutara Week this year.**

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><p><span>Lineage<span>

Dappled light seeped between giant drapes of expensive red silks. It was too dark and too quiet in the halls, even for the middle of the day. Katara was slightly unnerved by the lack of life and activity. The monstrous faces of the past Fire Lords glaring down at her did little to quell her unease.

Determinedly, she walked past the looming stone pillars that lined the hall and pushed the heavy curtains aside, gathering them in bunches to allow the afternoon sunshine flood the Gallery of Portraits. As the light chased away shadows, she continued examining one grimacing face after another.

Generations of fathers and sons of the throne watched the hall intently, followed by an empty, gilded frame that Katara assumed to be reserved for Zuko's portrait, when that time came. They all shared the same furrowed brow, humorless eyes, and antique crown. She wondered if Zuko's painting would look the same.

Standing at Zuko's great-great-grandfather, she tried to decipher the ancient text carved into the frame, only able to guess a handful of characters. A symbol that looked like _redemption_, another that was either _monarch_ or _conqueror_.

"Ah, Nephew," she heard Uncle's voice rumble from a short distance. "She is in the Gallery." Seconds later, Zuko, in casual pants and a tunic, emerged through gold-plated doors. Following closely was the retired general, who smile as Katara curtsied for them both.

"This is…quite something," she said, a bit uncomfortably.

"I want to burn them all," Zuko scowled.

Katara frowned. "Zuko, you can't. Regardless of anything you say, these men are your family." She watched for any change in emotion, waiting for an epiphany or even a minor acknowledgment.

"The Lady is right, Nephew," Iroh reprimanded. "They are your namesake and your history. You cannot erase that."

The current Fire Lord pinched the bridge of his nose. He attempted to reign in his aggravation, but the effort was in vain. "These damned paintings are just reminders of how badly my _family _screwed the world." Zuko stalked over to the first painting, gesturing wildly at the looming figure.

"Ezro decided that his people were too valuable to work, so he went to the Poles and captured _your _people, Katara. They were slaves in labor camps and pawns in the army. Zinjon," he continued, pointing at the next portrait, "apparently didn't know his figures and plunged the Nation into a depression with a massive deficit."

Iroh shook his head sadly, watching Zuko pace. "Once the economy miraculously got back on track, Konzu decided to raise taxes on exported goods and caused all the _other_ nations to suffer. And now we're at Sozin, who basically killed Avatar Roku, hunted the dragons to near extinction, and—oh, yeah. _Started the entire war_. Azulon wanted to kill me, and Ozai nearly destroyed the entire planet." Zuko hung his head in shame, his voice almost breaking as he finished. "So what am I supposed to do to fix few centuries' worth of mistakes?"

The waterbender reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Zuko," she and Iroh said together. Katara blinked in surprise and nodded, a silent invitation for the old man to speak first.

"There is one Lord that is excluded from the Gallery," he said, raising a grey eyebrow. "The Sages insist that that Lord is to be forgotten and is not to be taught about in lessons." Iroh walked over to the far left, pointing between the second and third paintings. "Here is where the Lord should go."

Katara caught Zuko's eye before asking the question that she knew was on his mind. "What did he do that banned him from…everything, really?"

Iroh gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Actually, _she _was one of the best things that has ever happened to the Fire Nation." The two young benders exchanged looks of bemusement. "Fire Lord Zolara abolished Erzo's slavery laws, and, with many years of dedication, managed to restore the nation's economy almost single-handedly."

"Why isn't she a part of the Gallery?"

"Zolara was a very wise woman, beyond her years with knowledge and strength of heart. She stayed unwed for a very long time, but when she did choose her Prince, it was out of pure love rather than politics. He was an average man, not of noble blood or high status. His name was Kassum, and he was a palace guard. This young gentleman was a waterbender from the Tribes."

Katara could feel her breath lock in her throat, and Zuko tensed next to her.

Iroh cast a suspicious glance at the pair of benders, but said nothing of their reaction. "Lord Zolara and Prince Kassum tried to produce an heir for the throne, but after three miscarriages and one born with a stilled heart, they gave up. Lord Konzu was her eldest nephew. The Sages were outraged and said that she disgraced her country, banishing her after she handed her crown to Konzu.

"So Nephew, rethink your standings. There _is_ goodness in your bloodline. Your honor as an individual will not be lessened for the things that have happened long before your time. As for the more recent affairs, you are capable of creating a new era." With those words, Iroh ambled across the floor and headed toward the kitchens.

Both Katara and Zuko stared after him, and then Katara turned to him and offered her condolences. Zuko hesitantly stepped into her open arms, immediately finding comfort in the steady rhythm of her breath. "I can't do this," he murmured.

"You always forget something really important. You don't have to do everything by yourself. If it gives you any consolation, you're already following in Zolara's footsteps." She grinned when he muttered a vague question into her hair. "Falling in love with a waterbender? Done."

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><p><strong>A little bit of genealogy, anyone? :) So...I made up my own Fire Nation history. Kind of. Ezro, Zinjon, Zolara, and Konzu are figments of my imagination. however, they do fit in with the pattern that the Fire Lords have the letters Z and O in their names. As for Kassum, he's named after a real-life person.<strong>

**On the Avatar-Wiki site, it says that "Fire Lord" is used regardless of gender. I used this site for some other stuff, too. (:**

**Review, please?**  
><strong>Tchao, Zutarians.<strong>  
><strong>Erika<strong>  
><strong>xoxo<strong>


	3. Feedback

**Zutara Week. Day Three. Social Networking.**

**I own nothing! Zuko, Katara, Aang, Iroh, Azula, the Crystal Catacombs, Appa, and anything else recognizable belong Mike/Bryan/Nickelodeon/Viacom! Obviously, I don't own deviantART or LiveJournal.**

**Zutara Week 2011 is, of course, run by the lovely trishna87, senbo-sama, AnimantX, and Irrel. Best wishes to GreenifyME, who unfortunately couldn't participate in ZW this year.**

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><p><span>Feedback<span>

Sometimes, when she's bored, Katara will sit and write about the way things could have gone if she had changed a few select words or actions. She calls them alternative chapters, deleted scenes of her life that never actually happened.

They always end with kissing Zuko.

...

She wrote about the time Zuko had tied her to that tree by the lake.

The bark biting into her back, his guttural voice seething into her ear, her precious necklace dangling from pale fingers. He tucks the pendant into a pocket somewhere and leaves a line of rough kisses along her jaw. He feels more than hears her whimper, and his body absorbs the shudder she tries so hard to repress.

"If I let you go, peasant, will you run?"

The waterbender shakes her head as the prince slowly releases her tight constraints. She thinks of running, thinks of all the different ways she could beat him at his own game and leave with both her necklace and her dignity.

Instead, she doesn't run, as promised, because even though she wants to get back to Aang and Sokka, she also wants more of his fingertips stealing over her skin, more of his lips at her throat. All she does is wait and pull him closer as he leans in to kiss her again.

He breaks away too soon and too suddenly, stalking away. Zuko doesn't look back when she calls for him.

...

There was another she wrote in tears, a rewrite of when she and Zuko had been locked in the Crystal Catacombs together.

He stares at her, and she stares back. Suddenly it's not a banished-prince-turned Earth-Kingdom-refugee and a novice-waterbender-turned-teacher-for-the-Avatar. It's just a boy and a girl who have been deceived and tormented by the war that rages the world.

She reaches up to traces the outline of his scar. He flinches and almost blocks her touch,but he hesitantly allows her to press her cold palm to the rippled, red flesh across his face. Zuko squeezes his eyes closed as she settles her hand naturally over his cheek.

His mouth is uncomfortably dry, and he wants so badly to lick his lips. He doesn't though, because that would mean that he'd taste her skin and he doesn't know if he could handle that right now.

She lifts her hand from the prince's face, but her fingers don't stray far. She traces brazen lines across his lips. Zuko chokes out a pained sigh when she replaces her fingers with her own mouth. It's simple, gentle, unassuming.

Zuko can't help himself then and his tongue darts out and he catches her saccharine taste. He takes the chance of looking at her again to find her kind smile and trusting eyes staring up at him. Then he simply can't stand it anymore and kisses her. The waterbender welcomes her opposite and lets the feeling consume them both.

"I'm sorry for everything," he says into her hair. "So sorry. But I'm good now, I swear. I don't want to be like this anymore."

She says that she understands, that she accepts his apologies. When Aang and Iroh burst through the glowing green crystals from a passageway on the other side of the wall, she is immediately pulled into Aang's arms and Zuko into Iroh's. It's her turn to apologize, but that's the good thing about being so alike. He understands too.

As Azula harasses her brother, hissing words like _traitor _and _destiny _and _choosing sides_, the girl with determined blue eyes looks back at him. It's not even a choice; there's no competition. He steps toward the Avatar, toward his uncle, toward the bender who so graciously offered to rid him of his mark.

She risks her own safety and reaches out to him. He nods and decidedly meets her hand with his own. She grins as he twists his hand and laces their fingers together. Later, after Azula had been taken down and Zuko had been incorporated into the group, he tells her that he didn't have to think twice about which side he would choose.

...

Another was written in anger and confusion and forgiveness after she had faced her mother's killer.

"I couldn't do it!" she sobs, clutching at his soaked black shirt. "I couldn't…"

Zuko sighs and smoothes her hair from her forehead before loosening her grip on him. He stands purposefully and leaves her crying against one of Appa's paws. He slings his twin swords across his back.

"Wait! Where are you g-going!" It takes so much strength to keep herself from choking on her sobs.

Zuko pauses and sends a glance over his shoulder. "To kill that bastard. He doesn't deserve to live." His voice is harsh, harsher than he intended it to be.

"No! Zuko! You c-can't! Don't—don't…" She extends her arms like a child wanting to be lifted and purses her lips. This isn't the girl he knows, the headstrong, natural-born leader who puts everyone before herself. This is a girl with a flurry of disarrayed emotions and a cracked will. It breaks his heart.

He curses to himself and goes back to her, like he always does. He sits in the mud and gathers her in sinewy arms, tucking loose tendrils of hair behind her ear. She kisses him desperately, only to resort back to crying when he turns her away.

She'll be the death of him, he swears. So, he cradles her face and holds her very still. He indulges her once with a slow, soft kiss. It's not enough for her, but if there's one thing that Zuko has learned in his life is that he shouldn't screw with a girl in tears, much less take advantage.

Her tears meld with the rain and soon enough, she can't even tell if she's still crying or if it's the rain streaking down her face. She lets him lift her up onto Appa and doesn't complain when he takes the reins. Instead, she sinks into the exhausted oblivion that crying leaves one in and sleeps.

The waterbender awakens when Zuko has Appa land by a lake, allowing the bison to drink and rest. Right as Appa takes off again, she crawls up between his horns, lightly pecks Zuko on his scarred cheek, and cuddles into the thick fur of the animal's neck. She whispers her gratitude while nestling her head in Zuko's lap. Zuko manages a smile, tells Appa to go a bit slower, and starts brushing through the girl's hair with his fingers.

...

Some of these drabbles are merely tiny moments, set in unpretentious times, after dinner or as she wakes up. She will post these stories on LiveJournal or deviantART, or on whatever network she remembers the password to. It's not like she expects anyone to pay her any mind, but it's the fact that she's published something that matters.

Katara does have a handful of loyal reviewers, though. One of them has the screen name of BlueSpirit, but signs his reviews as Li. He never leaves a comment more than a few words long, but he's always very kind.

As she writes, alone and in peaceful stillness, Zuko watches her.

"What are you doing?" he asks one day.

Her head snaps up; she furiously stacks sheets of paper together and covers others with the thesaurus that's close at hand. "Oh, uh, n-nothing," she stammers.

"Nothing, huh?" His face is blank, but his eyes are alight.

"Oh, well. Ha, ha, you caught me!" she tries. "I'm, uh, I'm writing—haikus. Yeah, I write poetry. Now, um, you can go."

Zuko gives her a look that she really doesn't like. He reaches into his pocket and unearths a few pieces of folded paper, flattening them out. "Really? This doesn't look like poetry."

As Katara freezes, Zuko smirks and drops the printed sheets into her lap. She hardly has to look at them to know what they are, and her entire face burns scarlet.

"It—it's not what it…" She trails off as Zuko kneels down and shifts closer.

"It's _exactly _what it looks like," he murmurs, his breath hot against her neck. "Now. How about we work on making some of these more than fiction?"

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><p><strong>Yeah, so...I don't have any idea what I'm doing. :P<strong>

**What is this? Alternate Reality? It's not quite AU, since it still takes place in the Avatar world, just with the Internet thrown into the mix. xD So yeah, it's weird. But I absolutely hate writing AU, and how do you write a story for "Social Networking" without it being in an alternate universe? I'm usually pretty good about twisting prompts to my liking, but I didn't know what else to do for this.**

**Thus, the fic has little to do with the actual prompt, but that's okay. It's still in there. LiveJournal and deviantART are both social networks, on which Zuko found Katara's alternate endings and later "commented" on.**

**Review, please?**  
><strong>Tchao, Zutarians.<strong>  
><strong>Erika<strong>  
><strong>xoxo<strong>


	4. Transitive Properties

**Zutara Week. Day Four. Secret.**

**I own nothing! Zuko, Katara, Aang, Zhao, Blue Spirit, platypus-bears, and anything else recognizable belong Mike/Bryan/Nickelodeon/Viacom!**

**Zutara Week 2011 is, of course, run by the lovely trishna87, senbo-sama, AnimantX, and Irrel on deviantART. Best wishes to GreenifyME, who unfortunately couldn't participate in ZW this year.**

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><p><span>Transitive Properties<span>

It was a bad idea. Katara knew it too, knew that she shouldn't be out in the midnight-swathed forest and _definitely _shouldn't be looking for Zuko. It was so stupid and reckless, but she couldn't shake the aura of paranoia that clouded her mind.

She wandered through the dense thicket of trees that bordered the Air Temple, weaving around silver-barked trunks and ducking under branches by the moon's dim gleam. Mosquito-moths swarmed heavily in the humid air and spread a perpetual itch over Katara's exposed skin.

Eventually, she saw the warm glow of fire searing against dark shadows. Standing just outside of his makeshift camp, which was composed of the small fire and a red tarp poorly knotted among drooping limbs, she watched him for several long moments.

He sat cross-legged in the dirt with a chipped teacup. Dark circles pooled beneath weary eyes, and his silk shirt was covered in grass stains and dust. In his lap rested an oblong shape of wood, painted the colors of dusk and moonlight. He ran his fingers over the horns and blunt fangs before sighing and setting it down next to him.

That mask…it couldn't be, _could it_?

Months ago, before she had mastered her element, she had been attacked by a platypus-bear while searching for wild berries and maybe some carrots in the agrestic region of the Earth Kingdom. Her water whip simply hadn't been strong enough back then, and right as she thought that she'd be bear-chow, a disguised figure wielding broadswords was fending off the animal.

He—she had assumed it was a he—had sheathed his swords as the creature skittered away, turning toward her and sweeping into a bow. Katara had been terrified, and the figure cocked his head to the side, silently inquiring about her well-being. With the exception of her deafening pulse, she was fine, and she nodded. The masked man reached a gloved hand out to her. Carefully, he had brought her hand to the wooden lips of the mask, then disappeared into the copse of trees before she could gather her bearings.

Now, as the familiarity of the intimidating, scowling mask began to weave its way to the front of her memory, questions upon questions began to collect in the basin of her thoughts. If Katara had been saved by the Blue Spirit, and the Blue Spirit was actually the boy who had hunted her and her friends across the globe, then…

Logic and reason were lost on her, and she made the mistake of parading into his camp unannounced and was thus met with a barrage of instinctual flames. She was barely able to wring the water out of a nearby tree to protect herself in time.

"Zuko!" she screeched.

Once realization surfaced in his exhausted eyes, he swore and a torrent of apologies followed soon after. He tripped over his words, trying to say so much at one time and his mouth unable to keep the pace with his mind. "Shit, Katara," he cursed, standing and rushing to her. "I didn't mean to—well, I did, but not at _you_, and if I knew it was you…" He stopped himself short, took an exasperated breath, and asked, more calmly, "Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine," she muttered, aggravation flooding her voice. Oblivious, the tension in Zuko's shoulders eased, though his expression remained cautious. She pushed past him to pick up the mask.

"You're the Blue Spirit?" she accused.

Zuko stared at the withered tree behind her in muted fascination. "Yes." There was no point in lying, he figured, and doing so wouldn't be in his best interest anyway; _she _was the one he needed to impress, the one that he needed the approval from most, so handing her lies and deceit was not the way in which to go about get her trust.

"Why didn't you tell us? You could have saved all of us a lot of trouble."

He decided that telling her that it was her own fault, that she wouldn't give him the time of day let alone have an entire conversation with him, would be one of the dumbest things he could say. "Everyone has their secrets," he answered instead.

Katara shook her head incredulously. "Yeah, but this is kind of important! You're a hero among Earth Kingdom villages! That's not something you keep to yourself." As she talked, Zuko glanced from the ground to the fire, avoiding her piercing blue stare.

"The Avatar knows."

Her brow furrowed. "…What?"

"Zhao captured him and I—well, the Blue Spirit—let him go. Then when Zhao's archers attacked me, the Avatar made sure I wasn't hurt. He told me we could be friends."

The waterbender looked surprised, shocked that Aang, too, had kept Zuko's alternative identity hidden from her. "Aang's good at keeping secrets," she murmured with a minute nod of her head.

Uncomfortably, they sat in silence then, neither of them looking at each other but neither of them making any move to get up. Zuko offered her tea once, to which she declined, and the stiff hush of the night descended upon them once more.

After too many of minutes of awkwardly avoiding any form of communication, Katara sighed and lifted her gaze to him. "Why did you save _me, _all that time ago?" she asked. His ocher eyes widened, as if startled by the question, and he threw twigs into his fire to buy time. She could see him trying to piece together a response in his mind.

"You are the Avatar's friend. He needs you, and the world needs him, which means the world needs you to play your part." Zuko bit his lip for a moment before meeting her eyes. "Which means _I _need you."

"Oh," she whispered, rendered speechless. Her jaw set, and she took a long, shuddering breath. Paralleling his words, she said, "This war must end, but Aang needs a firebending teacher to do so. You're pretty qualified to train him. I guess…I guess that means we need you, too."

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><p><strong>Well. This would have been better for Mask (but that'd be too obvious) or even Caught (but I had a different idea for that), but you know. Prompts are tricky little things to work with. <strong>

**But here we are, with some minor Zutara filler stuff where Katara went to see Zuko instead of Toph in the Western Air Temple episode. I don't like this one as much as I could…**

**Yay for math terms as titles! Actually, I hate math, but I guess it's kind of in honor of a friend who I haven't seen much of recently, which is really sad. So even though she won't read this because she's not part of the Avatar fandom, this is for her. (:**

**Review, please?**  
><strong>Tchao, Zutarians.<strong>  
><strong>Erika<strong>  
><strong>xoxo<strong>


	5. Ill Met By Bath Time

**Zutara Week. Day Five. Awkward.**

**Yeah, yeah, I know it's late. :P**

**This is a collab fic with Gina Jade! A lot of crap came up while we were writing, so we apologize for it's tardiness.**

**I own nothing! Zuko, Katara, Suki, Sokka, Toph, Aang, Haru, Teo, The Duke, the Fancy Lady Day Spa, and anything else recognizable belong Mike/Bryan/Nickelodeon/Viacom! Title is inspired by Act Two, Scene One of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ by Shakespeare.**

**Zutara Week 2011 is, of course, run by the lovely trishna87, senbo-sama, AnimantX, and Irrel on deviatnART. Best wishes to GreenifyME, who unfortunately couldn't participate in ZW this year.**

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><p><span>Ill Met By Bath Time<span>

The entire courtyard of the Western Air Temple was covered in mud: the cracked tiles, the solomonic columns, and the weathered fountain, as well as a tuckered out Aang and Toph. They sat contentedly in the mess, Aang juggling mud balls that splattered in midair while Toph criticized his footwork.

"You can't be dancing around when you earthbend," she stressed, roughly pushing Aang over when he ignored her. "See? You have to be solid."

Off on another level of the Temple, safe from the trashed remains of the practice battle, Katara sat with a dented pot over a small fire, waiting for the water to boil. She stared into the steam, her thoughts clouding in synchronicity with her vision. There were too many things to do and not enough time to do it, and that troubled her.

Her lengthy list of chores included all of the mundane tasks that a simple housewife was expected to do. Cook dinner, clean the dishes, force everyone to gather their dirty laundry then actually wash it all and hang it to dry, gather fresh fruit for the next day, and still have enough time to spar with Zuko and get at least four hours of much-needed sleep.

She felt her cheeks grow warm as she realized that she didn't really need to train with Zuko; it was an indulgence, that hour where it was just him and her and a lot of exposed skin.

As she waited for the water, she mechanically got up and treaded down a flight of stairs to the muddy mayhem that her friends had created in their mock fight. "Clean up, would you? Dinner will be ready soon. I'm just waiting for Sokka to get back."

"Sokka _is_ back!" the aforementioned Water Tribe boy announced, striding down the stairs with a toothy grin on his face, his boomerang in one hand, and a hogtied animal slung across his back. When Katara turned around from disdainfully picking flecks of dirt off of a pillar, she was met with a flattened, distorted, and bloody head of a dead animal.

The waterbender screamed and stumbled backwards, the mud gulping at her shoes and throwing her wildly off balance. She slid through the muck as she tried to get away from the carcass with lifeless eyes and snapped neck that her brother had shoved in her face. Sokka laughed and threw the skin back over his shoulder. "Caught a boarcupine!" he chirped, chuckling to himself. "So when's dinner?"

Katara gaped at him, tugging dripping hair from her face and trying to wipe her hands on her already-soiled dress. "Make it yourself!" she grumbled, carefully standing and regaining her footing. Gentler, she said to Aang, "Could you help Suki finish dinner? I'm going to clean up."

With another glare at Sokka, she stormed off through a side corridor, slipping once in the slick mud but catching herself before she fell again. She tracked the gritty goop across the floors and spattered it on the walls with every twitch of her head. Quite obscenities coursed though her mouth as she stomped down toward the baths.

On the way there, Haru was gifted the untimely misfortune of crossing her path. "Katara?" he asked, concern lacing through the syllables of her name. "What happened?" He reached out to touch her arm, but she irritably flinched away. She muttered a cryptic answer and pushed past him.

She stormed into the bath house, letting the mild humidity of the room engulf her. Sighing in relief, she enjoyed the way the steam found its way into her pores as she discarded her muddy tunic and started working on her pants.

Suddenly, her hands froze at the waistband of her pants as she processed something that was out of place. Why was there steam?

Frantically, she ticked off the names of her friends in her head, trying to locate the ones that could possibly be in the baths. The original gang was in the courtyard, Haru was heading in that direction, and Teo and The Duke were out flying or something. That only left…

Katara stiffened as she heard water splashing at the last tub. Looking up, the eyes of the distressed and partly undressed waterbender met Zuko's naked backside. She gasped softly as he stepped out of the bath and went to collect his towel.

She couldn't move an inch of her body. It was like she was held there by someone's hand, gravity down pouring on her shoulders and adhering her to the floor, forcing her to watch as the firebender shook out his damp hair and dried his taut body. He didn't turn around but instead tied the towel around his waist. Katara didn't quite know if she was relieved or disappointed.

Then he turned toward her, sighting her through the steam. His eyes widened, mirroring hers, as he stared at her. The waterbender fiddled with her pants, biting her lips as she did so. "Um…" She cleared her throat. "I didn't know you were…um…"

"How long have you been standing there?" Zuko asked quietly.

Katara swallowed heavily, chancing a look into his golden eyes. She opened her mouth, whispering hastily, "I have to go." With that, she gathered up her tunic, turned toward the door, and ran. A bath could wait. She didn't need one right then.

...

The Western Air Temple at night was uncomfortable to Katara. Not scary. She refused to be scared. But the shadows that scaled the walls as she walked towards the baths and the eerie sounds that came from no where were unnerving, to say the least. She quickened her pace and kept her eyes trained to the floor.

Dinner that evening had been awkward in every sense of the word. Katara took up her usual task of serving the food, and when it was Zuko's turn to collect his share, she never made eye contact. Instead, she mumbled a quick "here" and had shoved the bowl into his hands. He quietly thanked her while she had tried to hide the furious blush on her face.

Now, feeling utterly disgusting and thoroughly creeped out, she wound her way to the bath house in just her bindings to make up for the time she hadn't gotten earlier. Once she was out of the hallway and in the cavernous room, a flood of serenity tingled in her fingertips and toes. It was the water that she could feel beneath her, gurgling in pumps to be used for baths.

That exquisite sensation was soon trampled, however, as she saw a lanky, shirtless figure sitting on the edge of one of the stone tubs, feet submerged in the water. Inwardly, she groaned and outwardly glared at him.

"Leave," she grumbled. "Just…I don't want to talk about it."

"What's done is done. No hard feelings, okay?"

She huffed and felt the inevitable sting of tears on the bridge of her nose. "Yeah," she muttered, blinking away the burn behind her eyes. Zuko didn't seem too pleased with her unconvincing answer and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Get in," he said, nodding at the water. She stared at him, appalled, her mouth agape. His entire face flushed several different shades of red, but he caught his mistake before she could explode on him. "I-I mean, not like _that_."

The dirtiest expression he could have ever imagined crossed her face then. "It's already warm," he tried. Frankly, she was too tired, too aggravated, and too exasperated to put up much of a fight. And she was in desperate need of that bath now. Katara dramatically blew at her hair loopies as she reluctantly walked toward the tub.

She refused to look at him as she awkwardly stepped into the warm water. The drastic change of temperatures caused goose-duck flesh to sprout on her skin as her back came in contact with the edge of the tub.

Several seconds of uncomfortable silence settled between them. "…Can—can I help you with your hair?" The waterbender arched her eyebrow before she hesitantly nodded her head. It would have been hard enough to manage her hair without help, and if he was offering, she would take it.

His warm, soothing hands found her mocha hair, slowly trying to comb through the tangles. After tugging at her roots once, he stopped as she flinched. Withdrawing from her tresses, he grabbed the bucket that had been left next to the tub. "Close your eyes. Please."

"Why?" she asked.

"To, um, to get your hair wet."

She was about to tell him that she could waterbend the water onto her head, or even just submerge into the bath, but instead, her blue eyes disappeared behind her lids.

"Are they closed?" Zuko questioned.

Katara made a noise in the affirmative, and he filled the bucket, then let the collected water cascade down over her head. Setting the bucket down, his hands went back into her hair.

She let the feeling of the warm points of pressure against her head consume her. It had been so long since she got pampered, all of the months ago at the Fancy Lady Day Spa in Ba Sing Se. As much as she hated to admit it, she could have stayed there all night.

"Why do you know how to do this?" she asked quietly, tilting her head so his fingers reached different spots.

"My mother taught me. She used to tell me that every man should be able to give a massage. I thought it was stupid, and now that I think about it, she probably had this kind of thing in mind."

"Well…thanks." After a second, she added, "Um…you can go," hugging her arms around herself. Zuko looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he squared his jaw and swung his legs over the side of the tub.

"As you wish," he conceded with what he hoped came off as ambivalence. "Goodnight." Before sauntering away, he dipped his hand back into the bath to reheat it. Once his footsteps were mere echoes in the room, Katara shimmied out of her wraps.

Smoldering, golden eyes glimpsed soft, bare curves in the scant light as she settled further down. Silently, he closed the door behind him. They were even, he supposed, for now.

* * *

><p><strong>Like I said, this is a collab fic with Gina Jade. We are both equally responsible for this fic. Please, if you review mine, review hers too, even if it's the exact same review. It would be very much appreciated.<strong>

**Please and thank you?**  
><strong>Tchao, Zutarians.<strong>  
><strong>Erika<strong>  
><strong>xoxo<strong>


	6. Roar Like A Dragon

**Zutara Week. Day Six. Legendary.**

**I own nothing! Zuko, Katara, Toph, Iroh, and anything else recognizable belong Mike/Bryan/Nickelodeon/Viacom!**

**Zutara Week 2011 is, of course, run by the lovely trishna87, senbo-sama, AnimantX, and Irrel on deviantART. Best wishes to GreenifyME, who unfortunately couldn't participate in ZW this year.**

* * *

><p><span>Roar Like A Dragon<span>

Delicate hands wove into his shirt. She leaned against him, resting her head in the crook of his neck. She loved these days where Zuko didn't have anything planned and she could get him to do anything she wanted.

"Go," she whispered. The scent of his hair was thick around her, the familiar smell of him and smoke and outside. He began to move slowly, quietly. He pushed the heavy doors open with his hip, hitching her legs around his waist.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she said, her voice equally low.

With her consent, he began to move, muscles sliding under her weight. "On the count of three," he prepared her, taking careful steps toward the canopied bed. Under his breath, he counted off the numbers and at "three," he surged forward.

Six-year-old princess Kya roared with everything she had as Zuko pounced on the bed, startling a previously-napping Fire Lady Katara. The little girl hung on to Zuko's shoulders the best she could as the bed bounced from the added weight.

"Roar!" the princess snarled, her nose scrunching as she tried not to smile.

Katara took her cue to act terrified as Zuko trapped her against the mattress with his forearms. He growled too, the sound blossoming from deep within his throat and escaping menacingly.

"Oh, no!" the Fire Lady cried in faux distress. "I'm being attacked!"

Kya shimmied up her father's back a little more to peek above the top of his head. She bared her teeth and snickered.

"We are the legendary two-headed dragon!" Zuko rumbled, fighting his own grin. "With our combined skill, our power increases tenfold! We are masters of fire and no one can defeat us!"

Kya's continuous roars and snarls hushed as he ended, and she threw up her hands, curling her fingers like claws. "We challenge you to defeat us in a duel!"

"A duel!" Katara exclaimed. She pretended to weigh her options. "Fine then. I hope you're not afraid to lose!" Zuko kissed her briefly as she laughed, then rose to his feet with the little girl still clinging to his shoulders. Kya giggled hysterically as Zuko took off running, glancing back through her streaming black hair at her mother.

Guards lining the hall grinned as the Fire Lord raced past with the Princess on his back, trailed a few seconds later by the Lady, all three of which were acting as royalty shouldn't. It was a pleasant change.

They scrambled out into the courtyard, roaring like dragons and bounding through open air. Kya slid to the ground and stood battle-ready at her father's side, waiting impatiently for their duel to begin.

Katara, on the other side of the field, smiled gently. The little girl looked so much like Zuko, just with slightly darker skin and wider eyes. It made her ridiculously happy as she looked at both her husband and her daughter, who was trying to mimic the Lord's effortless defensive stance.

"Oh, mighty Legends, conquerors of fire and sky, I insist you take the first move," Katara said, sweeping into a mock bow for her dragons. Kya looked pleased and stepped forward, lines of concentration forming on her forehead. Smoke unfurled from her knuckles, and Zuko whispered bits of encouragement to her. After a few seconds, a short blast of fire erupted from her clenched fist.

That initial ignition was all she needed, and Kya sent sputtering spheres of flames at her mother. The waterbender drew a stream of water from the surrounding pools, knocking aside the attacks with ease. Water deflected small orbs of fire, and Kya advanced on Katara with every assault.

Katara waved a thin sheet of water across the courtyard when the firebender-in-training got close enough, freezing it underneath them, and the ice caught at the soles of Kya's shoes. The little girl panicked when she couldn't move, sending a wide-eyed stare at Zuko.

"Come on, think!" he coaxed. "Fire has the advantage over ice."

The Princess nodded soundly then, focusing very hard on melting away the ice at her feet without burning herself. Katara could have let her figure it out, but that was what lessons were for; Kya had asked to spar. Sparring didn't allow one time to think things through.

Katara whipped up a light fog, using the cover to sneak around behind her daughter. With a simple wave of her fingers, she melted the ice and quickly scooped her up. Kya shrieked with laughter as her mother blew raspberries into her little belly.

Zuko strode over and kissed both of his girls on their foreheads. "Good work, my little salamander. We'll practice again later." He took hold of the little girl then, barely letting her catch her breath before swinging her upside-down and taking her to her favorite rock, the one with a seat carved into the top of it, courtesy of Auntie Toph.

"Now who's ready to see daddy get his butt kicked?" Katara teased.

"You cannot beat me!" Zuko continued, keeping up the dragon charade. "I am a legend!"

"Oh yeah? The legend of what, ponytails?"

Zuko rolled his eyes at her lame joke. "Seems like you're all bark and no bite."

Katara planted her hands on her hips. "So he wants biting now," she said, half to herself. "Well, if that's what he wants."

He flushed lightly at her retort. "Err," he stammered. "Just go!"

"My pleasure," Katara murmured. With that, she took off without any hesitation. She spun a tight cone of ice around him, weaving her element through itself and creating a sturdy lattice. He kicked his way free of her trap then copied Katara's tidal wave move, pouring sheets of fire across the field. Katara sliced a path through the inferno with the pond water.

She used the same technique she had used while dueling with her daughter, summoning plumes of fog around her and spreading the thick blanket of condensation over the entire courtyard. She heard the quietest curse from aggravated lips.

On any other day, the fog wouldn't have been too much of a problem. This time though, disoriented and unsure where his target was, he wouldn't be able to bend without the fear of accidentally burning his daughter with askew flames. He'd have to resort to close combat fighting.

Katara smirked to herself and started swirling the fog in hopes of confusing Zuko more. It worked beautifully, and his hard eyes darted around, looking for some sign of her. She let him ponder and concentrate until all at once, she rushed a stiff whip straight at his chest, knocking him off his feet and onto his back. In the same fluid motion, she used the fog around them to create sharp ice spears. They dug into his shirt with frightening accuracy, piercing through the light cotton without so much as touching his pale skin. The short, solid spikes were the result of years of sparring with Zuko: short enough so he couldn't pull them out, far enough from his skin so it would take too long to melt them, deep enough into the ground that he couldn't easily wiggle them out.

He had learned from battling her as well, and he knew he was in quite a predicament, especially as she sent two more annoying spikes to secure his pant legs. _No time to think things through. _He jerked one arm up, tearing the sleeve of the shirt. The seamstresses wouldn't be pleased, but then again, they never were.

Zuko was working on melting the corresponding spear when she stood over him. She planted one foot between his legs and the other on his chest. "All bark, you say?" she smirked, brushing her ankle along the inside of his thigh. He wouldn't be _that _easily distracted though, and he grabbed her calf, flipping her around so she slid across the ground.

"You play dirty," he grumbled, melting the remaining ice spikes and rolling up to his feet as soon as he could. Now that the fog was gone, he'd be able to bend again. He charged her while she was still regaining her footing, twin daggers of flames sprouting from his fists. Katara barely managed to bring up her water whip to defend herself in time. She caught his wrist with a rope of water, reeling him closer.

Even though Zuko was more suited for hand-to-hand fighting, being trained in such skills and having more raw strength than his wife, she was smarter.

Katara blocked his punches with some difficulty but managed to knock him off balance for a second when she blocked a kick by twisting his leg. That second was just what she needed to duck around under a swinging arm, jab the backs of his knees with her foot, and send him flopping face-down into the dirt. She scurried on top of his back, cuffed his wrists in ice, and gripped his neck to insure her win.

The Princess laughed in delight as she scampered over to her parents. Katara moved her hand as the little girl plopped down between Zuko's shoulder blades. "Mommy won," Kya said pointedly, poking his cheek.

Zuko snorted. "Of course she did, kiddo. We might be dragons, but she's a master waterbender. And you don't mess with master waterbenders."

"That's right," a new voice came, and three heads turned to see a _real _legend—the Dragon of the West—stroll across the courtyard. "They are a force to be reckoned with."

"Grandpa!" The Princess exclaimed, running toward the old man and almost kicking Zuko in the head in the process.

"Hello, my dear one. It looks like you had a splendid time out here today."

She nodded vehemently and started chattering about all the cool stunts mommy and daddy did and how she hopes to be as good as them some day.

Iroh hushed the child for a moment, looking at his nephew. "You two look like you could use a bath. I will take the Princess while you clean up. No need to rush."

Katara watched as Kya took Iroh's hand in hers, her wide, gold eyes illuminating at the promise of tea and cookies. "Was that his way of asking for more grandchildren?"

Zuko rolled his eyes, kissed her, and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Probably."

* * *

><p><strong>Well. This turned out cuter than I hoped it would be. Yeah, yeah, I know that the beginning was kind of a tease. But if you know how I write, you'd know that I don't write lemon for this fandom, nor do I open up a story with lemon.<strong>

**Inspired by my six year old neighbor, who loves when I wear my Renaissance-style dress while I baby sit. She'll dig out her Sleeping Beauty dress and we'll hold balls and tea parties and contests to see who is the best princess ever. xD**

**Also, this was my first time actually writing a full-fledged fight scene, and even though it's only a spar, it's not half-bad for a first.**

**Review, please?**  
><strong>Tchao, Zutarians.<strong>  
><strong>Erika<strong>  
><strong>xoxo<strong>


	7. Angling

**Zutara Week. Day Seven. Caught.**

**Today is the last day of Zutara Week! Nooo! :(**

**I own nothing! Zuko, Katara, Sokka, Aang, Toph, and anything else recognizable belong Mike/Bryan/Nickelodeon/Viacom! **

**Zutara Week 2011 is, of course, run by the lovely trishna87, senbo-sama, AnimantX, and Irrel on deviantART. Best wishes to GreenifyME, who unfortunately couldn't participate in ZW this year.**

* * *

><p><span>Angling<span>

Zuko wondered how he had gotten roped into this. It was not his idea of fun, nor was the "manly bonding" necessary. His arguments were deemed invalid. Sokka had slung his arm around Zuko's shoulders and announced that they'd be back before dinner.

An hour later, under the blazing sun, Zuko found himself bobbing in a little rowboat in the middle of a lake. The sun-bleached wood had protested under their combined weight, but as they settled on the benches, the boat remained sound.

"It's all in the technique," Sokka boasted, reeling in a fish. It flopped underneath them for a few moments before the Water Tribe boy dropped it into a sack.

Zuko shot him a sidelong glance, staring at his murky reflection. "Technique. Right," he muttered. Really, he didn't see how fishing called for much of anything but patience. Not that he had _that_ either.

The tiny, optimistic part of him had tried to convince the rest of him that it would be a good thing to go on the stupid trip, since he and Katara had been arguing about the "proper" time to tell Sokka that they were together. Out in a tiny boat together with Sokka's space sword, he decided that that topic of conversation would be best left untouched.

His fishing pole—actually, it was nothing more than a smooth, thin branch with leftover line tied to the end—wiggled next to him, and for a second, he was really excited. The exhilaration simmered down quickly when he pulled at the line and felt minimal resistance. A tiny fish no longer than his forefinger thrashed pitifully in the air.

"Alright! Good job, buddy!" Sokka cheered, elbowing the firebender in the ribs. Zuko gave him an exasperated groan. After shuddering and almost asking Sokka to do it, he eventually managed to let the little thing go. Somehow, it would have seemed too pathetic if he were to take the guppy back to fry up for supper.

After several very long hours, Sokka proudly strode into camp with Zuko sulking next to him. Sokka whistled tunelessly (which, among other things, was driving Zuko insane), carrying his woven sack with much more fervor than really necessary. His fishing partner trailed his stick-turned-rod through the dust behind him.

"Hey!" Katara called as they neared. "How was your fishing trip?"

"Perfect!" her brother said, reaching into the sack to pull out a glistening fish. He situated himself next to the fire Aang had already started and laid a spit with his catch over the flames. Katara grinned and went to grab the bag. The grin vanished when the rough fibers of the sack hung limp in her hands.

"Sokka," she began sweetly. "Where are the rest of the fish?"

"In the lake," he replied, poking at the sizzling flesh of one fish. "What?" he questioned when his sister glared at him. He delicately peeled away scales to check its progress.

"There are _six_ people in this camp and you catch dinner for _yourself_?" she seethed incredulously.

"Aang doesn't eat fish," Sokka pointed out.

Katara threw her hands up, letting the bag fly into the air and land seconds later with a deflated plop. "Dear Spirits! That's not the _point_!" she exploded. "And what about you?" She spun to scowl at Zuko instead, the fury in her voice unintentionally carrying over to him.

"I, well...uh, didn't—" Zuko faltered.

"He couldn't catch a _cold_," Sokka explained, "let alone a fish."

The waterbender let out a long, exasperated sigh and pressed her fingers to her temple. Zuko suddenly wanted to reach out to her, to kiss away the deep frown lines that blossomed on her forehead.

"Fine," she muttered. "You, come with me." She jerked her head toward Zuko, who was simply staring at her. He silently followed, leaving that stupid stick on the ground.

Zuko allowed her to storm through the forest, not knowing what she was doing and not daring to ask, until they were out of sight of camp and hopefully out of Toph's earshot. He reached for her hand; she accepted gratefully and slowed her pace.

"Thanks," she said at the same time he said "sorry."

She smiled gently and stopped walking altogether. With her own apology for snapping at him, she tucked herself against him and pressed her nose to his neck. The thrum of his pulse against her cheek eased her out of her irritation.

He said nothing as she pulled away from the solidity of his body but curled his hand around her smaller one again. As she started leading him once more through the trees, she rested her head against his arm.

"Now what?" he asked when they reached the same Agni-forsaken lake that he had wasted his entire day on. Almost unwillingly, he let her hand go as she moved to stand at the muddy shore.

"Now I'm going to show you how _I_ fish," she said, a bit smugly. She planted her feet at the lake's edge and closed her eyes. She could sense how deep the lake was and, more importantly, all of the darting forms of life below the surface.

"Seriously? You couldn't catch _anything_?" she asked, feeling the pinpoints of life submerged in the calm water. "That's sad."

Even though it was just light teasing, Zuko frowned. Seconds later, with a theatrical splash, Katara bent a globe of water up from the depths of the lake. Swimming confusedly around the small sphere were eleven lively fish.

"Guess you're not much of a fisherman," Katara said with a small shrug. She gasped in surprise and dropped her whole catch back into the water when he trapped her against his chest, his arms crossing around her stomach. The waterbender laughed breathlessly as Zuko pressed his lips to her shoulder.

"Hey, I caught you, didn't I? That should count for something."

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><p><strong> So...I know nothing about fishing, cooking fish, or fish in general. Except for my pet goldfish, I've always been kinda freaked out by fish. I much rather prefer warm-blooded sea creatures. <strong>

"Fishing is boring, unless you catch an actual fish, and then it is disgusting."  
>-Dave Barry<p>

"It is to be observed that 'angling' is the name given to fishing by people who can't fish."  
>-Stephen Leacock<p>

**Anyway...I dunno. I had several ideas for this prompt, but I wanted to do something out-of-the-box. I assume that most people did/are going to do something involving them actually getting caught, whether it be kissing or in the middle of the act or whatever. (You know, like last year's Date prompts, where people either had an actual date or the fruit and I did due date instead.) So here's this, that actually isn't completely Zutara, but it's still kinda fluffy...and fishy. xD *brick'd***

**Review, please?**  
><strong>Tchao, Zutarians.<strong>  
><strong>Erika<strong>  
><strong>xoxo<strong>


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